Big bad nightclub bosses making people go missing feels like a reach. Sure, I don’t have any other suspects in mind, but this isn’t a little close or else empty threat. This is a big fucking deal. A big fucking deal where I’m very possibly going to piss them off more or hand them the knowledge that I’m splashing around solo right now with no clue which way is up.

And I have no interest in making them feel that happy tonight.

I turn and sink back against the wall. It’s filthy down here. Graffiti and litter everywhere. Food and who knows what bodily fluids trampled into the dirty concrete. A dumpster that smells like rotten fruit down the other end, the smell so strong it’s making my eyes water.

All that just goes to show how completely fucking mindless I’m being here. The least I could have done was bring Lars. Maybe reached out to the police asking for more information. Hell, maybe they already questioned Yanni and didn’t think to let me know.

Are police supposed to give the heads-up about stuff like that? I don’t fucking know.

I tip my head back, looking toward the sky that’s nothing more than deep black, melting into the shadows of the alley. The streetlamp here is blown. The noise from outside muffled. The stench of decay enough to keep any sane person from coming down here.

Something in my chest twinges, and it takes me a second to place the feeling.

I miss Colin.

My annoying, overachieving, always right older brother.

He’d give me the most enjoyable lecture about self-preservation if he could see me now. I can picture the exact way his neck would go an angry red, and concern would pinch the skin between his eyebrows.

Logically, I know I need to head back to Saint Clare’s. Being here is a reach, and if they really did have something to do with Colin after all, I’m asking for trouble by being here.

Not-so-logically, my feet refuse to move, and this nagging instinct holds strong, telling me to get answers. Making decisions when I’m frustrated is futile, but at least I’m being consistent.

That prickly feeling kicks back up, stronger this time, and I know it’s time to move.

But as I have that thought, a shadowed figure steps into the alleyway with me.

CHAPTER FIVE

PERRY

The fact I’ve already been set free to fly solo feels like some kind of work insurance breach, but here I am, name in my pocket, research done, with a whole few hours of training from Arlie under my belt.

When Luther handed the name over today, just like the other two times, it was with a muttered “quick and easy one for you.” If all my hits are quick and easy, I might have this thing made.